


And the Winner is....

by clubs14



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Art Compation, Art History, Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Historical References, Leonardo is a flirt, Lots of drawing and drinking wine, M/M, Making bets, The Arrangement (Good Omens), art and war, art from the lockdown video, gay artists, italian art, mistranslated bibles, original art for chapter 7, the renaissance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26753905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clubs14/pseuds/clubs14
Summary: Crowley is more then happy to move ahead and enjoy the art and wine of Florence. Now if only he could make the arrangement a more permanent thing. Perhaps a bet on who the best artist is will help incentivize the angel.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley/Leonardo da Vinci
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

Florence 1504 

The fourteenth century had dragged on, full of death and loss and far too many puritans for Crowley’s taste. Now that it was long over humans had finally proven to be more interested in art and culture than the possible sins of the people next to them. He felt like he could finally relax and enjoy what was shaping up to be a century full of art.

There was also the arrangement to look forward too, though still fairly new to both of them. Crowley was working on ways to ease Aziraphale into it more. So when he bumped into him in Florence it seemed like the perfect opportunity to bring it up again. 

“Back to mine for a drink?” He was currently staying at an inn not far from the Palazzo Vecchio. Truthfully he was here in the hopes of meeting Leonardo da Vinci, perhaps he would even buy one of his pieces. Hell of course thought that he was encouraging the people of Florence to remember how great past wars had been in the hopes that they would put all the art aside in favour of more fighting. He hadn’t seen why he couldn’t do both at the same time. Get the two biggest artists of the time to battle it out over who was better by painting scenes of great battles. It was an inspired idea really. He got to watch them work and Hell got to think he was encouraging them to go back to war. 

“All right, but I can’t stay too long.” Aziraphale followed him to the inn, still keeping a good amount of distance between them. On the walk he ran through different ways he could encourage Aziraphale to keep up the arrangement. The idea came to him when they were both seated at the tiny table in his room, a bottle of wine between them. 

“Care to make a bet.” Aziraphale looked properly scandalised at the idea of gambling. 

“On what exactly?” 

“On who is the better artist Leonardo da Vinci or Michelangelo. I’m sure you noticed all the extra tourists here to see them work on their murals.” He took another long drink of wine, Italian wine had gotten much better since he had last tried it. 

“I had noticed. But why do you think I would make a bet on who is better?” 

“Bit of fun really. Whoever wins has to do all the blessings and temptations for the other one for the next ten years. How does that sound?” He tried to be as nonchalant as possible judging from the look on Aziraphale’s face he had failed. 

“So this is about the arrangement then. You know Crowley just because I agreed to do a couple temptations for you doesn't mean I plan on making a habit out of it.” 

“If you win then I will do all your blessings for you for the next ten years.” Aziraphale sighed and sipped his wine, but Crowley could tell he was at least thinking about it. 

“Oh all right.” 

“Great! So I will bet on Leonardo and you get Michelangelo.” 

“Hang on, why do you get Leonardo?” Crowley inwardly cursed he had been so close. 

“Cause it’s my bet.” 

“Well maybe I won't agree to any bet with a demon if I don’t get to choose who I’m betting on.” 

“Fine. You can have Leonardo. Shake on it.” He extended a hand and Aziraphale took it easily enough giving a firm shake. Crowley hated the fact that just that simple touch was enough to send him into a near fit. Oh well at least he had found a way of keeping Aziraphale around a little longer even if he would have to spend more time with Michelangelo than Leonardo. He could make the moody twenty year old pull out a win despite the fact he was known for sculpting and not painting.


	2. Chapter 2

Aziraphale loved the art in Florence almost as much as he loved the food, humans were so very clever. Leonardo’s _Last Supper_ was one of his favourites as was the [_Annunciation_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Annunciation_\(Leonardo\)#/media/File:Annunciation_\(Leonardo\).jpg). The idea of Gabriel actually bringing flowers to Mary was so absurd he couldn’t help but get enjoyment out of it. The other angels of course had no idea that there were so many paintings of them which meant it was something that he could enjoy privately. Now it would appear as if Crowley were just as interested in the art as he was which was nice. They could enjoy Florence while spending time with the humans whose art they admired. He was certainly looking forward to meeting Leonardo and seeing his studio first hand. 

The building that housed his studio was large and ornate with many windows and a stunning garden. Aziraphale had to pause before knocking just to take it all in. At the door he was greeted by a young man dressed in fine silks and brightly coloured hose. 

“Am I to assume you're here to see the famed artist Leonardo da Vinci?” His voice had a lilt to it making it harder for Aziraphale to understand. Perhaps he had spent too much time in England as of late. 

“Yes. Is he in?” The young man merely sighed dramatically pulling the door open with a flourish and making his way back into the studio clearly expecting Aziraphale to follow him. 

“Another adoring fan is here to meet you.” The young man announced to a figure near the back of the large studio before sauntering off. Aziraphale assumed that this must be a regular occurrence judging from the lack of interest Leonardo showed. That is until he stood up and noticed him framed by the light in the open door behind him. Something in his expression shifted as he made his way towards Aziraphale. 

He wasn’t what Aziraphale had expected at all, clad in bright lilac with long hair and a puffy hat sitting slightly lopsided on his head. There wasn’t a hint of any paint on his clothing making him wonder if he was done working for the day. 

“And what might your name be?” Leonardo asked stretching out his hand for Aziraphale to shake the movement sending a strong scent of lavender with it. 

The lilt to his voice accompanied with the lavender made him pause trying desperately to remember one of his aliases. What ended up coming out against his permission was “Aziraphale.” Well shoot he really bungled that introduction up. 

“A remarkable name for a remarkable man.” Leonardo shook his hand, eyes twinkling. “‘I’m sure you would like a quick tour of the studio. Then perhaps we could get something to eat.” 

“That sounds lovely.” 

He was shown the many pieces scattered around the room, most of which were unfinished. As well as some of the sketches for his current project The Battle of Anghiari. Aziraphale had to admit the sketches were quite remarkable. They really captured the pain and sorrow that always accompanied war. 

“You're very talented. I must say seeing your works in person is breathtaking, certainly much better than just hearing talk of it.” 

“Have you not had the chance to see my work in person before? Surely you were able to see my fresco of the Last Supper.” 

“Oh yes, it’s one of my favourites. That was actually what drove me to try and make your acquaintance.” Aziraphale left out the other much more important reason for meeting him. 

“You flatter me.” He reached out patting Aziraphale’s arm affectionately. “Now let's get something to eat. I must say I’ve grown tired of the abysmal company here, makes me miss Milan all the more. So dining with you will be a nice change.” 

Well this was going much better than he had expected, Aziraphale even found himself looking forward to dinner with him. With no direction from Heaven he could just enjoy the art and food in Florence to his heart's content. Yes, this definitely had been a good idea.

The place that Leonardo ended up taking him to was tiny with a menu consisting of just freshly caught fish and local wine. Everything was delicious. Wine was certainly getting better then it had been in any previous century. He would even go as far as saying Italian wine could rival French wine. 

A number of fans approached them throughout the course of their meal to speak with Leonardo. Aziraphale paid them no mind, too engrossed in the many new flavours. It was when a finale group of fans had left that Leonardo decided to suggest they take their leave. 

“I had a wonderful time. Feel free to come by my studio anytime while you're staying in Florence. I could use a friendly face.” 

“I will, I must confess this is a bit of a holiday for me so I have more free time then I normally would.” 

“Well in that case come by tomorrow.” Aziraphale nodded and they shook hands before parting ways. The scent of lavender seemed to follow him all the way back to his room, Leonardo was certainly a very interesting human. 

That night he enjoyed some of the new books he had found in the city. Books were still relatively hard to come by and every city he visited always seemed to have something new and unexpected. Recently he found himself taken with poetry in particular. The ones full of sorrow and loss always resonated with him in a way he tried not to dwell on. 

The next morning he made his way back to Leonardo’s studio clad in his own brightly coloured hose. He had to admit he enjoyed the more vibrant ones and seeing Leonardo clad in them had given him the confidence to wear his own pair. 

Judging from Leonardo’s expression when he ushered him inside it had been the right choice.

“I was thinking of your grand entrance yesterday, and hoped that you would let me capture you. It would just be a simple drawing, seeing as I have other things to work on.” He looked as if he was about to say more but Aziraphale put his hand up stopping him. 

“That sounds like fun. Where would you like me to sit?” He knew the giddiness was clear in his voice. No one had asked to sketch a picture of him before. It would be the first image of his own likeness. Or his corporations likeness anyway, no human could really capture his true form. 

“Just out there in the garden if you don’t mind.” Leonardo gestured out the door clearly just as excited as he was. “I confess that from the moment I saw your blonde curls like a halo around your head I wanted to capture it. I have always been interested in drawing and painting angels.” Aziraphale paused thinking on his words as he got comfortable in the garden. There was no way that he could possibly know of his true nature, though some humans had been able to pick up on it over the centuries. It was a certain light he radiated that drew them in and made them feel as if they could trust him. 

“How does this look?” He asked sitting up straight on the concrete bench facing Leonardo. 

“Good, just turn your head slightly to the right.” He did, waiting for Leonardo to nod when he was happy with the pose. 

It took an hour or so for him to finish the sketch during which many other artists came and went. A number of them came over to see what the great artist was working on, nodding at the paper and complementing the likeness before heading back to their own tasks. By the time Leonardo was finished he was brimming with excitement. The finished product must be breathtaking if all the other artists' comments were anything to go by. 

Sure enough when he came to inspect it for himself he was blown away by how beautiful it was. He had never thought of his corporal form as anything special merely a vessel to accomplish his work on earth with. This picture however made him rethink that, was that how all the humans saw him? His eyes were shiny and his nose was slightly upturned, it was clear the curls were Leonardo’s favourite because they were sketched with the most care, somehow looking light and soft around his head. He had to admit the effect did resemble a halo. 

“Well what do you think?” 

“Surely I’m not as beautiful as this?” He couldn’t hide the wonder in his own voice. Obviously pride and vanity were sins and he didn’t like how he was feeling both swell in his chest. A simple sketch shouldn’t have that effect on him, he was an angel after all. 

“Oh, but you are. Now let me sign it.” He stepped in front of him signing the bottom left corner with his left hand before packing it away. “I plan on keeping this one if you don’t mind.” Aziraphale was still so shocked by the image to protest instead following him back into the studio. It was probably best he didn’t keep the drawing if it made him feel such pride at his appearance. His job on earth wasn’t to admire his own corporal form after all, he was meant to be doing the Lord's work.


	3. Chapter 3

To say that he was disappointed to have gotten Michelangelo instead of Leonardo in their bet would have been a huge understatement. Leonardo was a talented fun man that he had only had the pleasure of meeting once in passing. He had been decked out in an outfit so ridiculous Crowley instantly liked him. He also seemed to have a fixation on androgyny and not conforming to the rigid roles of his society. All things that he could get behind. Michelangelo on the other hand was a young loner that was very much interested in being a good Catholic. He had no vice’s that Crowley was aware of which instantly meant that he wasn’t all that interesting. Brooding loners that deprived themselves of all the pleasant things that came with living on earth were always a bore. Oh well, at least he had gotten Aziraphale to agree to the bet. 

Michelangelo's place was even bland in appearance, clearly not meant for much more than a studio and place to sleep. He approached the door with a dramatic sigh before knocking on the door loudly. All he had to do was win this bet and then he would get the next ten years off. Maybe Aziraphale would even be more interested in making their arrangement a more permanent thing. 

“Go away.” An annoyed voice shouted from inside. Crowley ignored them pushing the door open. 

“I’m here to see Michelangelo.” When the lone figure ignored him from his work desk Crowley shrugged making his way towards him. “Michelangelo I presume.” He said taking a seat across from the man. “I know you're not one for company but I couldn’t resist stopping by while I’m in Florence.” Michelangelo finally looked up at him, clearly scrutinizing his sharp features and dark clothes. 

“You're not the only one that thinks he can just stop by whenever he pleases. I’m sure you can tell I’m quite busy and not one for giving out tours so be on your way.” He waved Crowley off going back to his sketches. 

“Listen, I know I’m overstepping in coming here and interrupting you, but I saw the Pietà and it honestly- it’s beautiful.” He hated how tight his throat felt at the admission. He might not be interested in Michelangelo as a person but as a sculptor he was very skilled. The Pietà had made him cry, a reaction he wasn’t proud of and something that had never happened before or since. He had been there after all, he had witnessed what Jesus had gone through and seen the pain on his mother's face. The statue had brought all of that back in a way that was completely unexpected. 

He was so engrossed in his memories that he didn’t notice Michelangelo looking up at him with something other than annoyance. “Thank you. I can tell that it affected you.” Crowley shook his head this wasn’t the introduction that he had been planning on but at least Michelangelo had stopped demanding that he leave.

“Let me take you out for dinner.” His voice was definitely more scratchy then he liked. Stupid blessed sculpture making him feel things.

“Fine. But that is all, and only because I haven’t eaten a proper meal yet today.” 

The walk to the closest restaurant was quiet, both of them lost in their thoughts. Crowley had no idea how he was going to get Michelangelo to trust him enough to let him influence his design for the fresco. Wine would probably help, it usually did. 

They ate in near silence, Crowley barely paid any attention to the food instead slipping the bartender some coins in exchange for his best wine. If Michelangelo noticed he made no comment. It wasn’t until the wine arrived and he offered him some that he finally spoke up. “I don’t drink.” 

“Really. It’s quite good.” He filled his own cup before taking a long sip as if to demonstrate. Michelangelo eyed him sceptically, but pushed his glass towards him. Crowley made sure to fill it to the brim before nudging it back to him. After that they resumed their silent meal. It wasn’t until after Crowley had paid and they were making their way out that Michelangelo seemed to open up a bit more. 

“You know, I think it’s ridiculous that they want me to do a fresco when I’m known for working with marble. This whole project is just a trick to get me to work alongside Leonardo da Vinci. That way they can see who the better artist is.” 

“Yeah that was my assumption too. Though it’s not really much of a contest is it?” 

“What do you mean by that? Do you think he will win because of his years of experience?” Michelangelo sounded annoyed stepping farther away, Crowley was admittedly a little bit drunk but he could still see a trap when it was placed in front of him. 

“No. You are much more skilled than he is, you're only in your twenties and you’ve already created some of the most breathtaking sculptures I’ve ever seen. The way you can capture the naked figure is incomparable.” Okay maybe he had gone a bit far with that last part. Laying it on a little thick. 

“Can you believe he said that it looked as if my David was stuffed with walnuts.” Crowley had to hold back a laugh at that. 

“Nonsense he just doesn't understand the power behind it. You know what you should do for the fresco?” 

They had reached Michelangelo's house and he stopped to eye Crowley before opening the door. “What?” 

“Fill it with the figures of men rushing to get ready for battle, some of them could even be bathing when they are called to action. That would show him for his comments on your work. Instead of one naked man there would be many.” He threw his arms in the air for empathise, already picturing it in his mind. 

Michelangelo eyed him before pulling the door open and gesturing for him to follow. He waited for the door to close before turning to Crowley with the first genuine smile of the night. 

“That is a great idea. He will hate it. What did you say your name was?” Crowley of course had never given him a name, now though he shook his hand returning the smile.

“Crowley.” 

“I don’t say this often but it’s nice to meet you Crowley. Come back tomorrow and I can show you some sketches.” With that he was pushed out the door. Oh well it had been a resounding success, not only would the mural depict war but nudity too. Hell would love that and it would make all the other humans uncomfortable as an added bonus. 

The next morning he did his best to arrive late in order to give Michelangelo time to start sketching, he also seemed like the type that wouldn’t be a morning person. 

The studio was just as quiet as it had been the day before with the only sound coming from the scratches of charcoal on paper. Crowley made his way over trying to make a little bit of noise in the process in order not to startle him. 

“How is it coming along?” He asked peering over his shoulder to get a better look. The shapes of figures were there without all the added details. 

“See for yourself.” Michelangelo grunted pushing the sheet of paper away. 

“Wow, you really captured it. That’s exactly what I pictured, s’pose you just have to find models now.” 

“Soon, I have to finish planning out the entire piece still. This will only be one section of it.” 

“Are there any other areas you need help with?” 

“No. You can go now. Come back in a couple days and then we can worry about the next part.” Crowley nodded taking his leave. The rumours on his work ethic were not an exaggeration, at least that gave him some time to check in on Aziraphale and Leonardo. Make sure things aren't going too well. He may want the arrangement to become a more permanent thing but he still wanted to win the bet.


	4. Chapter 4

Aziraphale was currently sharing another bottle of wine with Leonardo, after the drawing had been put away it seemed like the best thing to do. They had gotten to talking about inventions that Leonardo had sketched out, specifically the ones that involved flight. At one point he had been so engrossed in the conversation that he had almost forgotten himself and revealed his own wings. While he was sure Leonardo would be over the moon the complaints from head office would never make it worth it. 

Leonardo was about to get up and invite all the young models he had to join them for dinner when Crowley showed up. He took one look at the two of them in their brightly coloured hose smelling of lavender and merely shook his head. “I see you're having a good time angel.” 

“Oh you must join us Crowley, this wine is simply divine.” He lifted a glass up to him, Crowley merely accepted filling it himself and taking a seat next to him. 

“You look familiar.” Leonardo leaned forward eyeing Crowley as if trying to place where he might have crossed paths with him in the past. 

“Yeah we met briefly in Milan.” 

“Oh yes. I remember you now, hard to forget someone with hair like yours.” He reached out and ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair clearly admiring the curls. Crowley shot Aziraphale a worried look which confused him. Maybe he had been drinking too much wine, surely Crowley knew he didn’t mind him stopping by. Unless he was feeling guilty because he was really here to spy on his progress. 

He was just about to accuse him of spying when Leonardo spoke up. “You should join us for dinner.” Crowley still eyed him warily but agreed to come along. 

There ended up being a large group of them in the restaurant. Aziraphale recognised some of the younger men as the ones bustling around the studio though he didn’t know any of their names. They all seemed very eager to speak on a wide range of topics though so the dinner conversation was intriguing. He found himself talking with one of the young men in particular a lot, he had travelled with Leonardo and was studying under him in the hopes of improving his own talents. The two of them were so engrossed in conversation that they had to be pushed into finally leaving the restaurant. It had gotten late and everyone was planning on heading back to the studio. They tried to convince him to join but he had plans of his own. Crowley of course left with them for the studio confirming his suspicions. He was definitely up to something. Aziraphale felt certain that he was going to undermine Leonardo in order to win their little bet. Well two could play at that. 

The next day Aziraphale made his way over to the studio that Michelangelo was using, the building was far more quiet then Leonardo’s studio had been. There were a couple people walking around when he pushed the door open but they all remained silent at his sudden entrance. Barely batting an eye when he made his way through the studio. He could recognise the lone figure near the back as Michelangelo easily enough. When he approached him he could see the table covered in countless drawings of what looked to be a very dramatic battle, though with admittedly a lot of nudity. Aziraphale had noticed that male nudes were a favourite of his.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.” He stepped to the side in order to make eye contact with him. 

“You are.” His tone was exasperated and Aziraphale couldn’t resist using a little of his angelic nature when Michelangelo looked up. The effect made him appear much brighter with gold framing his head, not too dissimilar from his halo. Michelangelo gasped getting to his feet before starting to reach out to him and then thinking better of it and pulling his hand back. “I’m so sorry, you're not interrupting.” His eyes were large and there was a definite shake to his voice. Poor dear, perhaps he had gone a little overboard. 

“You're forgiven, I know you're busy working on something for the Palazzo Vecchio. May I see?” He did his best to turn down the divine light but Michelangelo still looked at him full of wonder. 

“Yes, yes of course.” He stood back carefully laying out all the drawings for Aziraphale to admire. They really were beautiful.

“Are you going to draw it out first to see how it will look?” He was genuinely curious, all thoughts of sabotage thrown out the window. He found himself for the first time since their bet started not really caring who won. They were both such talented artists after all, how were you supposed to choose just one? 

“I was hoping too but I haven't found a suitable location yet.” He was still looking at Aziraphale with a level of radiance that made him decide there and then that he would personally find a place with a large enough wall for him. He could always perform a blessing on Leonardo later to help him along. 

“I may be able to help, let me just speak with some people in the community.” 

“Thank you.” Aziraphale smiled before turning to leave only to be stopped by his voice “Am I to take this as a sign that I’m on the right path?” 

Aziraphale carefully ran the question through his mind wondering why the man could think otherwise. He had already restored faith too many through his sculptures, how could he be uncertain? 

“Yes of course, your art is a gift.” Michelangelo nodded watching him as he left. Aziraphale decided that he would find a suitable place the following day. He wanted to see how the sketches would look on the wall for himself.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a couple links in this chapter to art depicting nudes so if that's not something your interested in seeing feel free not to click. Most of it is described by Crowley anyway.  
> Leonardo was an interesting man.

Crowley was disappointed by Aziraphale’s sudden disappearance after dinner, the house party wasn’t really the same without the angel present. All the humans had stripped down to less clothing and some had started drawing each other in various ridiculous poses. By midnight he found himself alone out in the garden replaying their conversation in his mind. Was Aziraphale mad because of the extra attention he was getting from Leonardo? He could admit there was a large part of him that hoped the angel was jealous. But that was probably just his own wishful thinking, as an angel Aziraphale was probably unable to feel jealous. No, he probably just didn't want to be seen partying with a demon. After all most of the interactions they had in the past centuries had consisted of brief conversations. A couple of dinners here, a shared bottle of wine there, and one particular memorable time in a bath house. That image still played out in his mind from time to time, as if to haunt him with what he wanted but could never hope to have. 

His angry sulking was interrupted by Leonardo, who approached him from across the garden. He was still wearing those ridiculous hose but the hat was long gone. 

"Crowley. What are you doing out here?” He asked as he made himself comfortable on the marble bench next to him. “Is this about Aziraphale?” Of course the angel hadn’t bothered to come up with an alias and just used his real name. Though he supposed in this case he couldn’t talk seeing as everyone was calling him Crowley. 

“We just have a lot of history.” He figured making it as vague as possible was best, let him think they were lovers having a snit. 

“Yes I gathered that.” He leaned back scrutinizing Crowley’s face clearly looking for something hidden behind his glasses. Whatever it was he must have found it because he added “you followed him here didn’t you?” 

“No, I’m here for work related reasons.” How did he somehow manage to make it sound so much like a flimsy lie when it was the truth? Leonardo regarded him but said nothing opting to fill his glass near to the brim with wine. 

They sat like that in silence watching the sky grow ever darker enjoying the wine. Finally Crowley’s curiosity got the better of him, he had desperately wanted to meet this man for awhile now after all. He should be pushing all thoughts of Aziraphale out of his mind, and count his good luck in convincing him to go along with the arrangement at all. 

“I think I have just the thing that will cheer you up.” Leonardo announced pulling him to his feet and all but dragging him back into the studio. Crowley, who had been desperately trying to think of something clever to say, was glad for the distraction. Wanting to talk with someone you admired and actually trying to do it were two very different things. 

Leonardo ended up leading him to a dark back room in the studio. He had to light a candle so that they could see anything once the door was closed behind them. 

“This is where I keep all my more private works.” He whispered to Crowley. The perceived secrecy of it made him wonder what the heaven he had hidden away. “Not many people have had the chance to see this.” Crowley nodded not daring to say anything that could derail where this was going. 

Leonardo pulled out a large folder hidden amongst some old canvas and laid it out on the table. Carefully he pulled out some sheets of paper for Crowley to see. “You might want to take off your glasses to get a better look.” With shaky hands he obeyed laying them carefully on the table next to the paper before leaning closer to get a better look. 

His eyes widened as he took it all in, there were sketches of the [Mona Lisa with her tits out](https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/shortcuts/2019/mar/05/nude-version-mona-lisa-leonardo-da-vinci-who-model#img-1) and many drawings of what appeared to be humans or maybe angels with both tits and cocks. Well that was certainly unexpected. Of course he had known that Leonardo had a fascination with androgyny but he never expected it to go quite this [far](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/53d1d528e4b03aa34500543a/1414283159600-2WA6YX9OY8E8IWDUUXQN/ke17ZwdGBToddI8pDm48kFJ6UHhXYvW6t92u-h4JZ_ZZw-zPPgdn4jUwVcJE1ZvWEtT5uBSRWt4vQZAgTJucoTqqXjS3CfNDSuuf31e0tVH23s8Ffr0ko6e4JmIObRPX-wFWlQwAsV1Z_hGBCFZtnU-4aJiRobwoZxnIYDcZaJk/angel-incarnate-salai-giacomo.jpg?format=300w). Imagine what Aziraphale would think if he saw these drawings of angels sporting all manner of different efforts. 

Carefully he placed his glasses back on before turning back to Leonardo, he had remained silent clearly enjoying Crowley’s reaction. “These are all honestly breathtaking” and not that different from the real thing. He had after all tried out many efforts over the centuries, though judging from the look of some of Leonardo’s pictures he hadn’t spent much time around naked women. Not really all that surprising.

“I knew you would like them. Here take this one.” He slid a red sketch of the Mona Lisa towards him. Crowley had to admit as nice as all the naked drawings were that one in particular had caught his eye. “Now what’s your first name?” 

“Antonio.” He said watching in amazement as Leonardo wrote out a message on the bottom right corner of the drawing. “There you go.” Crowley stood speechless, he couldn’t remember any human ever giving him anything before. Certainly nothing this beautiful. If his eyes teared up it was hidden away by his glasses and unnoticed by Leonardo. 

After they left the secret room he made his goodbyes and took off back to his place with the picture hidden away under his arm. He would make up any excuses necessary to spend more time with da Vinci. The man was simply too interesting. 

The next morning he left his room with the picture safety stored away and an extra bounce in his step. He had a new plan. This one involved getting Aziraphale to switch with him so that he could spend more time with Leonardo. All he had to do was find the angel, couldn’t be that hard. 

Sure enough he felt the presence of divine grace at a hospital, which wasn’t that out of the ordinary for the angel. What he found inside most definitely was though, Aziraphale stood next to Michelangelo eyeing an exceptionally large blank wall. They were talking with so much excitement that he felt his own blood boil. Rationally he knew it was jealousy but he was choosing to think of it instead as annoyance that he could lose the bet. It made coping with his infatuation more bearable. 

“What’s going on?” They both turned around in unison to eye him, Aziraphale didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed at being caught.

“I was just showing Michelangelo a good place for him to sketch out his Battle of Cascina. You should see it Crowley, it truly is remarkable.” 

“I’m sure it is, though I thought it wouldn’t be ready until the end of the week.” He eyed Michelangelo accusingly. He merely shrugged. 

“The full drawing won't be ready until later in the week, when it is done though this will be the perfect place to plan it out.” Michelangelo turned to Aziraphale giving the angel a firm hug, much to Crowley’s shock. He had never seemed the type to be affectionate and yet here he was hugging Aziraphale. What the blessed heaven happened? Whatever it was the idea of them switching who got who in the bet no longer seemed appealing. 

“I have to get back to my work now. Thank you for all your help.” Michelangelo said to Aziraphale before leaving the two of them alone in the large hospital room. 

Crowley waited until he was completely out of site before rounding on the angel. “What was that all about I thought you wanted to bet on Leonardo da Vinci?” 

“Keep your voice down.” 

“Answer the question. Michelangelo doesn't just hug anyone.” 

“Perhaps we can discuss this over lunch. I'm starting to feel peckish.” Crowley grunted but allowed himself to be dragged to one of Aziraphale’s new favourite places. He even managed to wait until after the server had poured their wine and taken their order to speak up. 

“Why are you helping Michelangelo?” Aziraphale eyed him from across the table, he was clearly thinking over his words carefully. 

“I admit I wasn’t planning too, but then I saw his sketches. They really are stunning Crowley, they show what it’s like to have to drop everything and rush to battle. I think people will see it and know just how much can be lost from war.” He nearly choked on his wine at that, trust Aziraphale to see a bunch of naked men bathing and think it was really about the problems of war. 

“That was my idea. I thought a bunch of naked men would rile everyone up.” 

The angel scoffed, shaking his head. “Perhaps that was your intention but that’s not how Michelangelo depicted it. Not everyone has lustful thoughts all the time Crowley.” 

“They’re naked men angel, and they’re all twisted in various erotic poses.” 

“Yes I saw the drawing.” He tutted taking a sip of wine and regarding Crowley coldly over the brim of his wine glass. “I think I would know what Michelangelo meant to depict, after all I gave him my blessing.” Okay he was properly gaping now, Aziraphale never gave blessings without direction from heaven. Certainly not to someone that he had bet against. 

“You blessed him?!” There was a definite hiss to his voice now. 

“Yes. He is a very devout Catholic, and he was feeling lost. I understand if you want to call the bet off, I did overstep after all.” 

“No, we are not calling the bet off. In fact you can keep Michelangelo if you're so soft for him.” 

Aziraphale sighed, admiring the platter of food making its way to their table. “Alright, that seems fair. Now let’s just enjoy lunch.” He wiggled picking up his fork in anticipation for the platter that was being placed in front of him. Crowley tried desperately to remain angry but it was always a near impossible feat when he was watching the angel eat. The way his eyes shone and the little noises of delight he made always managed to improve his mood considerably.


	6. Chapter 6

Aziraphale knew better than anyone that you couldn’t trust a demon, Crowley had obviously wanted to spend more time with Leonardo da Vinci since the beginning. Though he was still unsure if hell had asked him to or if he was merely interested in the man's art. It could be both he reasoned, Crowley was definitely in Florence for work reasons, unlike him. Only a couple days with Leonardo had shown him why Crowley may be interested in him for more personal reasons. They both certainly loved playing with gender, and while Aziraphale wasn’t fussed by his own corporation he could understand the appeal of wearing different types of clothing. The bright hose had certainly been fun, though he had gone back to white now that he was spending more time with Michelangelo, a man decidedly not interested in bright colours or floral scents. No he was much too busy sketching out his [ masterpiece](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Cascina_\(Michelangelo\)#/media/File:Battagliadicascina.jpg) on the wall of the hospital. 

The drawing had taken months of work but it was coming along quite nicely, and judging by the crowds of people stopping by they all agreed. He was currently seated near the back where the view was slightly obscured but he could take in the whole image much better. For all that Crowley had fixated on the nudity and the shapely male bodies he couldn’t see past the sorrow and panic of being caught unaware. No, the men looked as if they had lives and passions that were being rudely interrupted by war. It was hard not to see the similarities between his own battles and the one currently being drawn with such care. Had he not been like those men going about his own business when he was called to battle. War was never something that he enjoyed and he liked to believe that humans shared that opinion, certainly Michelangelo did. He had shared many of his conflicting thoughts with him since they had started to spend more time together. Under the quiet distant facade he was a deeply passionate man. Even after being blessed he had spent many nights worrying on whether or not he was worthy of heaven. 

“Aziraphale!” The booming voice of Gabriel sounded from right next to him making him jump. In the past he probably would have screamed too, but after a couple centuries of his unexpected appearances the novelty had worn off. 

“Gabriel, what a pleasant surprise.” 

“Yes I suppose it is. Are you encouraging this?” He waved a hand at the large group of people gathered around the masterpiece. 

“It’s a work of art. It’s meant to show the sorrows of war.” 

“Now, what’s wrong with war? Sure it can get messy and the paperwork can be a nightmare but sometimes it’s necessary.” Aziraphale did his best to nod along, there was never any point in arguing with Gabriel. He probably saw the war in heaven as a necessary cleansing. A way of firing the bad apples.

“Anyway. I have a new assignment for you, and since you don’t appear to be busy you can leave today.” He had assumed that was the reason for Gabriel’s visit; though he couldn’t say he was looking forward to leaving Florence just when he was starting to enjoy the food, wine and art. There was also the matter of his current bet with Crowley, would he have to forfeit now? Perhaps they could agree on a draw and move their separate ways. 

“What may I ask is this new assignment?” 

“It’s about the current Pope, Julius II. We believe he needs some guidance. You see he’s very invested in making himself look powerful, and we think that demons might be stationed there to influence him.” When Aziraphale remained quiet he added “you can handle a couple demons can’t you?” 

“Of course. I’ll leave for Rome as soon as possible.” 

“Good, good, I knew I could count on you Aziraphale. I’ll be expecting your report within the next couple days.” With a final blinding smile he disappeared in a flash of light. Everyone near enough to notice stood horrified looking at Aziraphale as if he had something to do with it. Why Gabriel still insisted on leaving in such a ridiculous eye catching way he would never understand. He probably enjoyed causing a scene and leaving him to clean up afterwards. 

This time Aziraphale didn’t offer any explanation, instead rushing out the back door. He would have to try and speak with Crowley before leaving for Rome. Of course it was ridiculous to make bets with demons, never mind letting them know when you were leaving. As if to say ‘I’m popping out for a bit, please don’t muck things up too bad.’ Demons by their very nature wanted to muck things up, so why he felt guilty about leaving without letting Crowley know first was confusing. Obviously Crowley wasn’t like other demons he seemed to genuinely care about humans, and enjoyed their inventions just as much as Aziraphale did. Perhaps that’s why he felt as if he owed him the explanation. There was also the chance that he would know about whether or not there were demons spending time with the Pope. Though he wasn’t sure if their relationship had reached that level of trust. They may have done a couple blessings and temptations for each other but that didn’t mean that he could confide in him. It was still the business of heaven after all and he wasn’t overly confident in his assessment of Crowley. What if he asked and Crowley merely warned his fellow demons that an angel was coming. Best not bring it up. 

The first place he went to in search of Crowley ended up being correct. He was in Leonardo’s studio whispering to the man conspiratorially over some sketchbooks. It would seem they were getting on quite nicely. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt.” He said not daring to walk too close to them. If they were planning out ways to win then he didn’t want them to think that he was there to spy. 

“Angel! You're not here to sneak a peek are you?” Crowley’s tone was teasing as he stepped closer. Leonardo merely shook his head at them before excusing himself. 

“Actually, I stopped by to let you know that I have to leave for Rome.” He stepped closer in order to whisper in Crowley’s ear. “I’m afraid we’ll have to call off the bet.” He supposed maybe it was inappropriate as Crowley’s face reddened at the close contact. “I’m terribly sorry. I just didn’t want anyone else to overhear.” He waited a minute giving Crowley a chance to speak and when he remained silent he added “well best be off then.”

“You shook on it, so the bet will continue whether you're here or not.” 

“And how am I to trust a demon to play fair when I’m not around?” He was admittedly still thinking about the potential demons in Rome and whether or not Crowley had anything to do with it. 

“I guess you should have thought of that before you shook on it.” He was properly glaring at him now, though he wasn’t sure why. Surely the bet had just been a bit of fun to occupy their time until other assignments came up. Crowley was being completely unreasonable expecting more. Unless he knew about what was going on in Rome and didn’t want him to find out. 

“Fine, have it your way vile serpent.” He spun on his heel heading for the door. Crowley could be infuriating at times. 

He still had to pack his things and leave a note for Michelangelo explaining his sudden absence. The poor man was really coming along with his drawing. Aziraphale hoped he would be able to finish it even with his absence, bet or no bet.

The trip to Rome was tiring as it always was when he couldn’t simply fly there, heaven had looked down on that after one to many humans had noticed and panicked. Now he was stuck with a horse and carriage. At least he was able to stop along the way to try out different local wine and restaurants. Most of them were good, though not as enjoyable as it would have been if he was dining with someone. There was something about sharing something new with someone else that was so much better than eating alone. 

By the time he reached Rome he was eager to meet the Pope and get the whole assignment finished. He never cared much for the Pope, most of them were men that believed so strongly that they alone had a direct line to God that they confused their own wants and desires for Hers. Hopefully the Pope would just end up being another ignorant human with no demonic influence needed. Then he could merely turn him to the light and get back to enjoying the art and food. Of course if there were no demons involved that would also mean that Crowley wasn’t trying to hide anything from him by keeping him distracted with their little bet. Privately he could admit to hoping that this was the case. He was really starting to look forward to dining with someone that had been around as long as he had. There was something about having one constant that made him feel less lonely.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got halfway through posting this and then decided I wanted to draw the sketch mentioned in this chapter. Hope you enjoy.

As soon as Aziraphale had stormed out he regretted the entire conversation. He had been so close to really making the angel agree to a more permanent arrangement. He could have even thrown the bet, done miracles for ten years to really make sure that Aziraphale was more committed to it. All he desperately wanted was for this to work. Why could he never make it work? He had been so close. 

“Everything okay?” Leonardo reappeared from where he had been hiding. He probably heard the whole thing much to Crowley’s disgust. What would he think of the yells of ‘demon’ and ‘vile serpent?’ 

“Yeah, just peachy.” 

“He’ll come back. In the meantime let’s open a bottle of wine.” Leonardo still sounded far too cheery for Crowley’s current mood, but he followed him anyway. They ended up seated outside in the now familiar garden with a bottle between them. It was good, certainly an improvement from the old stuff. Maybe Leonardo had pulled out the good stuff in lieu of what had happened. 

“You two have been together for a long time haven't you?” Leonardo asked, eyeing him over the brim of his glass.

“Suppose.” 

“I’ve been there. Best to give it a break, especially when he starts calling you a demon. That’s never a good sign.” 

Crowley nearly choked on his wine, “you’ve been called a demon before?” 

“Oh yes a couple times. Usually after they see my notebooks.” That at least kind of made sense to him, humans were still so stuck in their ways. Anything new and creative must be demonic in nature. If they only knew how extremely uncreative most demons were. 

“If you want I can draw a naked picture of you for him, so he will always have an image of what he’s missing.” Well he was definitely a little bit drunk if he was suggesting naked pictures, not that he was faring any better since he was actually considering it. 

“Sure why not.” He shrugged, getting up and draining the rest of his wine. 

Leonardo grinned mischievously at him, “get comfy, I’ll get the supplies.” With that he disappeared back into the studio. 

Crowley pulled his tunic off somewhat clumsily before dragging down the breeches and hose. Everything was thrown in a pile off to the side with the exception of his tinted glasses, before he laid across the bench. It wasn’t the most comfortable even with the silk currently draped over it. He was just pouring himself more wine when Leonardo stepped back out into the garden, paper and charcoal in hand. He stopped when he got closer, eyeing Crowley from head to toe appreciatively. It only took a couple minutes to set everything up and then he was sketching, face focused on his frame. 

Crowley enjoyed the attention, reveling in the way his lips curled and his eyes sparkled as he worked. He had made his frame appear just a little more androgynous then typical knowing Leonardo loved drawing humans that way. 

The silence was peaceful and he closed his eyes enjoying the warm sun on his naked corporation, he had forgotten just how nice it was to lay in the sun and let his mind wander. He was so lost in his thoughts that it took Leonardo nudging him to pull him out of it. 

“It’s all finished. Though I wouldn’t be opposed to you staying like this.” Crowley opened his eyes behind his glasses taking in the mischievous grin on his face. For the first time he found himself wondering what it would be like to fool around with a human. If he was going to do it with one of them then he would definitely pick this one, with his clever mind and immense talent. He was so imaginative seeing things that no other human had ever noticed before. Some of his thoughts must have shown on his face because in the next minute he was being kissed. Well that was a first. It actually felt quite nice if he was being honest, though the beard tickled his cheeks. 

After a couple of minutes he stepped away gesturing for Crowley to follow. What the heaven did that mean? Apparently it just meant ‘come look at the drawing’ which he did. It was weird seeing a drawing of himself not all that different from the other nudes Leonardo had shown him. That’s when it hit him that this drawing was supposed to be for Aziraphale and he had to fight the laugh bubbling up. 

“Do you like it?” Leonardo asked arms winding around him from behind. 

“Yeah, you're very talented.” He slipped out of his grasp before reaching for his clothes and redressing. If Leonardo was disappointed he didn’t say anything, instead focusing on pouring them each another glass of wine. He accepted the wine happily, mind quickly turning to Aziraphale and whether or not he was planning on coming back to Florence after his assignment. The bet was technically still happening in his opinion and he should probably be spending less time drinking in the nude and more time actually helping Leonardo win. 

“When do you think you’ll be ready to start painting?” Leonardo looked properly disappointed now, the conversation having turned back to work and very much away from the shag he had clearly been hoping for. While Crowley was flattered, the idea of sex with humans even this human, was still something he felt disinterested in. 

“I’m actually working on a new technique for applying the paint, it should be more like painting with oils. I’ll show you tomorrow.” 

Sure enough the following day they looked over all the notes, Crowley who didn’t know the first thing about paint had no idea what he was looking at. Whatever it was he was sure Leonardo knew what he was doing. 

“Now we can start the drawing.” Leonardo announced happily starting his sketch, they were currently in the Palazzo Vecchio. This was the place the murals were supposed to be painted so Crowley couldn’t understand why Michelangelo was nowhere to be found. Perhaps this would be easier then he thought. 

As the day wore on more people stopped by to admire the progress and give their opinions on how it was coming along. Most people liked it, remarking on the intense atmosphere, there were only a couple naysayers and he made sure to deal with them. No need to make Leonardo angry when he was finally starting the piece. By the time it was getting dark out they decided to call it a day and head out. Leonardo was clearly still a bit sore about being turned down and excused himself with some excuse about having things to work on. Crowley took it in stride deciding to check in on Michelangelo. He hadn’t seen him since their initial meeting all those months ago and now seemed like as good a time as any. Especially with Aziraphale off in Rome. 

He went to the studio first finding it empty before making his way to the hospital. Sure enough he was standing back from his masterpiece eyes scanning every inch of it as if searching desperately for flaws. Crowley couldn’t see any, it truly was greater than even he could have imagined. 

“I guess you're going to start painting the finale one in the Palazzo Vecchio now.” Michelangelo turned at the sound of his voice, clearly surprised that anyone was still hanging around this late. 

“No. I just received a letter from the Pope. He wants me to work on his tomb in Rome.” Crowley’s jaw dropped, surely that wasn’t a coincidence. It seemed so strange that Aziraphale would leave for Rome only to have Michelangelo follow the next day. His treacherous mind supplied all manner of unhelpful images of why Michelangelo would want to be near Aziraphale. 

“When are you leaving?” 

“As soon as I can. Do you like it?” He nodded back to the drawing eyes still roaming it critically.

“Yes, I'm not just saying that because it was partly my design.” 

“Your idea to have men bathing was clever, thank you.” With that he turned away heading for the door and leaving Crowley alone with the giant drawing. The more he looked at it the more his mind drifted off, back to those early days before creation. He had stood no chance in his own battle being thrown from heaven with ease. He was sure the looks on some of the men's faces wasn’t too far off from the one on his own. When he finally managed to turn his thoughts away from the dark memories and back to the present he was very much alone in the room. 


	8. Chapter 8

Aziraphale had been in Rome for only a couple weeks but it was more than long enough for him to know that the current Pope was acting of his own volition. He was certainly different from any previous Pope that he had come into contact with. He was ill tempered and never laughed, instead walking around with an air of entitlement, this of course wasn’t the part that was unlike other Pope’s. No, what set him apart from the others was his enjoyment of battle and fighting back against the French. Aziraphale couldn’t say he liked the man very much, but a job was a job and thus he was currently seated next to him in the lavish dining hall. 

“I’ve been thinking on who should design my tomb.” Pope Julius II announced to the table at large. There were a number of bishops seated around them tonight and they all seemed to quite enjoy the grumpy man's presence. 

“You have only been Pope for a short time, surely we can wait a little longer before discussing a tomb.” The bishop across from Aziraphale spoke up, earning a glare from the rest of the table. 

“Don’t be foolish I’m old and should be prepared. Besides, a tomb would be a great way to pull talented artists to Rome.” He didn’t add that it was also a great way of making himself seem all that much grander. Aziraphale knew how the egos of men could be. 

“I know of a very talented artist in Florence.” He spoke up watching as they all swung their heads in his direction. 

“And who might that be Mr. Fell?” 

“He is working on another project right now, but I’m sure he could be persuaded to come here instead.” He felt a little bit ashamed of himself for suggesting who he was about to, but if Crowley wasn’t going to play fair then why should he. A bet was a bet after all, and if you were going to make one with a demon then you needed to be prepared to play a little bit dirty as it were. “He goes by the name Leonardo da Vinci.” 

Pope Julius II waved off his suggestion “I’ve heard of him he’s notorious for never finishing anything. No, I need someone that will actually see my tomb through to the end.” 

“What about that sculpture Michelangelo? I hear he is very talented.” The same bishop seated across from him said, Aziraphale was the only one to glare at him this time. If Michelangelo was pulled away from his current project then he would most assuredly lose and be stuck doing Crowley’s temptations for the next ten years. 

“Now that is an inspired choice, he is very gifted in sculpting. Just imagine what a tomb made by an artist like him could look like.” They all collectively imagined it except Aziraphale who was feeling very much finished with his dinner. Stupid bet. 

A letter ends up being sent the following day inviting Michelangelo to Rome and requesting that he work on the tomb. Aziraphale knows he will accept the offer and make his way for Rome as soon as possible. In the meantime he contacts heaven to let them know that the Pope is acting of his own free will and there are no demons present in Rome. He is hoping they will let him leave the city now that his reason for being there is over. Florence was quite nice and he feels as if he should at least let Crowley accept his victory. Instead Gabriel demands that he remain in Rome ‘just in case, we never know when the enemy could strike.’ So he is stuck here for the foreseeable future. Crowley will just have to wait, he’s probably having a grand time with Leonardo anyway. The two of them seemed to really hit it off. If he feels any form of jealousy over it, then he’s just annoyed that he lost the bet. Angel’s don’t feel jealousy after all. 

In the end he decides that if he is going to be stuck in Rome then he may as well make the most of it. There are new things to see and new places to dine at after all. He makes his way to St. Peter’s Basilica first. Pope Julius II has been going on about rebuilding it after it fell into disrepair. In fact it is one of his favourite things to discuss. That and the war. Aziraphale of course knew how it used to look when it was grand and new, meaning the state of the building now is shocking. He ends up looking at the remains for a full hour before finally slipping through the crowd and into the worn down building. As soon as he steps inside he understands why this Pope wants to rebuild it so badly. The floor is littered with rouble and the walls are etched with long cracks where they were once smooth. It is a far cry from what it once was. On his way out he blesses the workers, who have started on the outside. Whatever they are planning to do with the building he feels certain it will be breathtaking. He will have to come back and see for himself when it’s all finished. 

After that he decides to check in on the site of Pope Julius II tomb, it will be where Michelangelo is set to work after all. The building isn’t much in comparison to St. Peter’s Basilica though the inside is quite nice. He walks through the entire church before finding the location where the Pope plans on putting his tomb. Humans can be so funny when it comes to their desperation for leaving a legacy, for that is exactly what a tomb is. Why else would they be so concerned with where their body will be if their soul is in heaven. No it’s definitely a way of showing off what an incredible godly man they were in life. It’s all a bit too flashy for him. 

With the sightseeing done for the day he makes his way to a tiny local restaurant that he remembers from years long past. The food is probably completely different but he can’t help his curiosity at what it could be like now. Sure enough the menu has a lot more to choose from now both in the way of wine and dinner. He ends up ordering the tart of salmon with dried fruits and spices, with a glass of chardonnay. It was delicious and not being surrounded by bishops was a nice change. No heated discussions on what God would want and how ‘He’ wanted the war to go. Instead there was just him and his dinner, the only way it could be better is if Crowley were enjoying it with him. He had accompanied him at this particular place all those years ago and he would have been impressed with the much larger selection of wines. Oh well, he would just have to tell him about it when they next crossed paths. 

By the time he made his way back to his rooms he was feeling much better about being stuck in Rome. Maybe he would even look around for some rare printings of the bible that were still missing from his collection. He certainly had the time.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!

The months went by as Crowley watched all of Leonardo’s attempts at a new painting technique fail. He would have thought the man was cursed but he was the only one around with that capability. They were currently on the final attempt, this one he had even discreetly blessed, in the hopes that it would succeed. Leonardo was eyeing it with suspicion before checking his notes once more, Crowley supposed he could always shout at the paint if the blessing didn’t take. Scare it into remaining in place. 

Once Leonardo seemed satisfied with his work he came back over to where he was standing, leaving a large amount of distance between them. Ever since the drawing incident he had been very careful around Crowley. Clearly believing that he was still too hung up on Aziraphale for anything to work between them. He was trying not to focus on just how correct that assumption was. 

“Well I think that’s enough for tonight. Care for a drink back at the studio?” Leonardo asked, still staring down his work on the opposite wall. 

“Sure.” Since Aziraphale had left he had been drinking with Leonardo more and more, the two of them got along quite well and the long debates on a wide range of topics were always interesting. 

Tonight the debate took a decidedly different turn than Crowley had been expecting. 

“You should write to him,” Leonardo announced. They were on their second glass of wine and he was just starting to feel relaxed. Now at the sudden change in topic he sat straighter wondering where this was going. “I can tell you can’t stop thinking about him, so just write to him.” 

“It’s fine, he will come back when he’s finished in Rome.” Crowley tried to wave him off but Leonardo was having none of it. 

“Or he’ll find someone else in Rome. You know there are a lot of men like us there.” He said it so flippantly as if Crowley were being daft. 

“Look, just drop it.” There was more he could have said but he left it at that, mind full of images of Aziraphale having way too much fun without him. He wouldn’t be interested in that though, he was an angel. At least that was what he had assumed. What if he was wrong, what if Leonardo knew more than he did after spending time alone with him? It certainly seemed plausible. 

“Just write to him.” Leonardo repeated much too focused on his wine to notice the very menacing glare that was being sent his way. 

With a huff he dragged himself up, if this was the peak of conversation then he may as well go yell at the paint. He could win this stupid bet yet if it would just stick. Besides any more time thinking about what Aziraphale might be up to was enough to send him in a downward spiral. They had never been able to spend that much time together and he should be more than used to it by now. With a wave he left Leonardo to enjoy the rest of the wine by himself and headed for the Palazzo Vecchio where the fresco was currently waiting. 

Crowley snuck in easily enough and spent a good couple hours threatening and yelling at the fresco to cooperate if it knew what was good for it. The paint trembled at the force of his voice but remained in place. When he was finally satisfied and feeling much better, yelling at things always had a way of making him feel better. 

He slept the rest of the night away before being rudely shaken awake by Leonardo the next morning. 

“What do you want?” He asked, trying to bury himself deeper into the bed. 

“You must come look at my work. I think it might finally be sticking!” Leonardo pulled him up ignoring his protests. He probably would have dragged him the whole way there, so reluctantly Crowley threw on some clothes and followed him there instead. 

Once they were inside the Palazzo Vecchio Leonardo was practically bouncing on his feet in his excitement. He kept looking down at his notes before eyeing the paint. “See look, it's finally settling down.” Crowley shook his head but made his way over appraising the fresco once more. It certainly looked like it was finally working. He tried to touch it and found his hand slapped away. “Don’t touch it. The oils on your fingers could ruin it.” With that he started assembling all his paint in order to get back to work. Crowley hadn’t seen him this excited by the project since he first arrived. 

“Well since it seems to be working I’m going to let you work. We can have dinner later to celebrate.” 

“Sure, sure. See you later.” Leonardo said, still too focused on his work to bother looking up. 

Crowley was just making his way to the inn when he spotted Hastur and Ligur arguing across the street. Great, apparently Hell wanted to check in on his progress. 

He made his way over glad that at least Leonardo wasn’t currently with him. “Checking in?” 

“You know we are, but first we must recount the deeds of the day.” Hastur said “I have whispered in the ear of a travelling musician on just how much better he could be if he traded his soul for endless musical talents.” 

Ligur spoke up next “I have tempted a bishop in Rome into focusing more on the material things of this world then his faith.” 

So that’s why Aziraphale was called away. Stupid Ligur getting in the way of his carefully planned attempts at spending more time with the angel. “I have encouraged artists to capture the majesty of battle and nudity. Now everyone in Florence will want to go to battle naked, thus leading to more lust and wrath.” Hastur and Ligur exchanged a look before both staring him down. 

“Is that what you’ve been doing in Florence all this time?” Hastur didn’t sound impressed. 

“Come see for yourself, the painting inspires lust and wrath in anyone that looks upon it.” He made his way to where Michelangelo’s now abandoned painting was located, both demons grumbled but followed him. 

The hospital was busy when they arrived pushing their way through the crowd that was still admiring the sketch on the wall. Once they were near the front he gestured to all the onlookers as if to say ‘see they can’t take their eyes off it.’ Both of them ignored him in favour of looking over the piece and the many naked men in it. Crowley wished he could capture the moment so that he could look over it again and again whenever they were being especially irritating. 

“I guess I can see how humans might look at this and want to take all their clothes off.” Ligur said, eyes still roaming over the sketch. Hastur looked disappointed at his words. 

“Don’t be ridiculous this is just another stupid painting, your supposed to be encouraging wars not more art.” Hastur yelled at him. Crowley’s mind was racing; he needed something that could convince them that he was doing useful things for Hell here despite the obvious fact he wasn’t. 

“This painting is making them reminisce on the good old days when they were winning wars. Humans love thinking that wherever they live is better than anywhere else and that is what paintings like this do. See, look at them, they long for battle.” He waved an arm around at all the people currently starring at the piece. “Also they could be doing something productive but instead they’re in here staring at art. So really it also encourages sloth.” 

Hastur huffed, still scowling at him and in turn the humans in the room. “Fine. But Hell will be expecting much more in your next report.” With that they disappeared below the earth, a couple humans gawked but quickly turned their attention back to the art. Crowley sighed, now he was going to have to come up with something better or see Hastur’s ugly face once more. 

Technically he was winning the bet so he could write to Aziraphale like Leonardo suggested, asking him to tempt the Pope. Or whatever. The only problem was that they hadn’t exactly left on good terms. The angel could very well still be mad at him, assuming he was the one that got Michelangelo to leave Florence. It was either that or go to Rome himself because he certainly wasn’t going anywhere near the battles. A letter would have to do. 

Writing the letter was of course the hard part, his mind kept supplying him with romantic platitudes and a list of all the things he would do for him. Why had he thought any of this was a good idea? In the end the letter was shockingly simple and to the point. 

_Aziraphale_

_Seeing as I’m winning our bet I thought it best to contact you with my next temptation. Hell wants more wars and less art. Since you're already in Rome feel free to tempt away there._

_PS. make sure to burn this_

__With a wave of his hand the letter found itself in the angels chambers. Now he just had to wait, because once Aziraphale had read it he was sure he would be receiving a letter back._ _


	10. Chapter 10

Aziraphale did manage to find a number of different prints of the bible that he hadn’t seen before. One especially funny one had been mistranslated in a number of different parts leading to confusion over the word ‘young women’ and ‘virgin.’ Which in turn caused there to be countless pregnant virgins in the bible. He ended up laughing so hard at this that he had to pause for air. That is of course when a letter appeared on his night stand. He recognised the lettering immediately as being Crowley’s and tore it open. He ended up reading over it a couple times getting more frustrated with every read through. He may have been fine with the idea of losing, but now seeing Crowley’s blatant demand for him to do his job for him had him reconsidering. He hadn’t officially won the bet yet and Aziraphale had no plans of letting him, especially since he wasn’t playing by the rules. Though that should be expected when one was making bets with demons. Well he could trick said demon right back. 

That night he decided to rejoin the Pope and bishops for dinner instead of hiding out with his new bibles. He would show Crowley that two could play at this game. 

“I didn’t think you would be taking dinner with us anymore.” Pope Julius II said when he sat down next to him. 

“I’m sorry I gave that impression. I’ve been quite busy as of late but couldn’t resist missing out on dinner tonight.” He had seen what was in the kitchens and so this wasn’t a complete lie. 

“And what is so special about tonight?” He was glaring, though not so much at Aziraphale as at the table as a whole.

“Well I hear things are going very well on the battlefield and wanted to celebrate, it shall be a part of your legacy after all.” That was all it took to make the Pope smile, finally turning to regard Aziraphale with favour. In all his countless conversations with him in the past he had never seen him looking so excited. 

“It is going well, I believe I will be known as the military Pope I am. You know that is why I chose the name I did.” 

“Yes of course.” Aziraphale pauses thinking of his next words carefully, temptations are still new to him after all. “I’m sure you are already planning this, but I think it would be a great gesture of your strength if you personally joined the fight to keep Italy safe. You could show the people what a military Pope can accomplish.” With that he took a sip from his wine eyes scanning the room. All the bishops looked shocked whispering amongst themselves. The idea of a Pope going into battle himself was unheard of and not something any of them would recommend. Therefore it was exactly what Hell would want and expect from Crowley. 

“You know I’ve been thinking the same thing since becoming Pope. It would send a much stronger message if I was there amongst them.” 

One bishop who is currently receiving glares from the rest ends up speaking up. “While I think it would send a positive message, don’t you believe God’s work is here in Rome?” 

“Usually, but not right now. I think right now it would be best if I was there amongst the soldiers.” 

“Yes exactly, if you help them reclaim their land back from the french then they will see just how powerful the Catholic Church can be.” Okay, he was definitely laying it on a bit thick. Though apparently the Pope agreed very enthusiastically if his grin was anything to go by. It was a pity he was so easily tempted. Certainly easier than trying to convince him to do good had been. Perhaps Crowley’s job was always easier than his. It certainly couldn’t be that he was just good at it, he was an angel and tempting people wasn’t supposed to be one of his talents. 

“Well that settles it, thank you for your input Mr. Fell. I think we can start arranging plans for my arrival in Bologna.” From there Aziraphale lost interest in the conversation instead enjoying the fresh oysters and chardonnay. He had been drinking a lot of chardonnay on this particular trip to Rome. 

After dinner he went back to his chambers to fill out the necessary paperwork for both Hell and Heaven. He would make it sound like the demon had returned to continue tempting the Pope and now he was on his way to Bologna to fight. Aziraphale had made sure to scare the demon off but the Pope was set in his idea of battle. Thus he had settled on blessing him and encouraging him to spare as many lives as he could. He sent the report up to Heaven before starting one for Hell, in this one he wrote of finishing the temptation on the Pope and successfully convincing him to go to the battle before being attacked by an angel. If he embellished the ferociousness of the angel then that was purely for flair and not because he was still angry at Crowley. The reports sent he pulled out yet more paper this time writing to Crowley. 

_Crowley_

_I did you the courtesy of completing your temptation despite the fact you have not yet won our bet. I will be expecting you to take that into consideration when I am victorious._

_Sincerely Aziraphale_

_PS. Obviously I know we have to burn any letter after reading it._

Now he could make his way back to Florence to see just how the mural was coming along. If he planned on ruining it then that was between him and God. It wasn’t like demons played by the rules anyway.

He made sure to give the Pope a blessing along with a goodbye full of excuses of things coming up in Florence. 

The trip back to Florence didn’t end up taking too long and when he finally arrived he was feeling excited. The streets were mostly quiet as he made his way to the Palazzo Vecchio, it only took a minor miracle to prevent anyone from spotting him when he made his way inside. When he spotted the mural he couldn’t help but stare taking in all the vibrant colours and horrified faces. For the first time since coming up with his plan he felt bad for what he was about to do, it was clear that Leonardo had worked very hard on it. This wasn’t about Leonardo though, this was about Crowley thinking he could pull one over him while he was away. He thought of the demon as he put some of his new skills in tempting and destruction to good use. Once he was done he stepped back to admire his work. The paint was chipping and falling off the walls in large chunks landing gracefully to the ground like colourful snowflakes. He watched them fall for a couple of minutes before making his way back out onto the street. He would drop in on Crowley tomorrow and see how smug he was now that he was no longer winning their bet.


	11. Chapter 11

Who would have thought yelling at paint would do the trick, at least that had been what he thought before joining Leonardo back in the Palazzo Vecchio. The mural that had once been breathtaking was once again chipping, the floor covered in colourful pieces. Leonardo threw his hands up cursing in Italian, even Crowley hadn’t heard all the words he was currently using. 

He marched up to the mural ignoring the distraught artist in favour of yelling at the art. Perhaps he hadn’t been clear on the whole not disintegrating thing. No amount of demonic threats seemed to matter to the painting though as it continued to chip right after a particularly good threat. What had happened? The only explanation that he could come up with was Hastur and Ligur being mad enough with the art that they decided to destroy it. Though if it had been them then the whole building would have been destroyed not just the mural. Which left….

“Crowley, what happened?” Aziraphale asked from behind him making him whirl around on his heels. 

“It was you!” He shouted loud enough to startle Leonardo out of his own angry cursing. 

“Me. I just got back.” If Crowley had been anyone else he might have been fooled by the innocent look in the angels eyes. But he knew him better than that. With a snarl he grabbed the angel by his doublet and swung him into the wall, he was about to shout something really intimidating when Leonardo spoke up. 

“Well I’ll give you two privacy. I need to come up with a whole new technique anyway.” With that he stormed past them practically slamming the door behind him. Aziraphale actually had the audacity to laugh clearly completely unaffected by the demon currently pinning him to the wall. Crowley couldn’t resist leaning forward, smelling his perfume before realising what he was doing and stepping back fast enough that he nearly tripped over his own feet. Smooth. What was it about the angel’s bastard side that made him so crazy? Right now he wanted nothing more than to wipe that cheeky little smile off his face, preferably with a kiss. Smug bastard. 

“So how do you feel about lunch?” 

Crowley isn’t sure how he ends up sitting across from Aziraphale at some new restaurant that is apparently trying new and exciting things with pasta. All he knows is that he is here and still reeling from the revelation that the angel came all the way back just to make sure he wouldn't be able to win. Not only that but he not only completed his temptation for him but filled out all the paperwork for both himself and Crowley. That is decidedly new and he can’t help but worry that Hell will be able to tell that he wasn’t the one that filled out the paperwork. Well okay Dagon might notice, no one else in Hell pays any mind to paperwork. That’s still a risk though all it takes is one suspicious demon and then they are all crawling up to earth to pester him. 

As much as he wants the arrangement to become a regular thing he finds himself worrying about what could happen if they did get caught. Probably what Aziraphale had been worried about all along. Now he looks perfectly content sipping his wine and twirling his pasta. That smile has never faltered since they sat down. For all intents and purposes he is having a grand time, until he interrupts it.

“What did you end up writing in your report?” 

“You're worried.” He pauses munching on some more pasta before dabbing at his mouth with his napkin. “No need, I have seen your reports before dear. I told them that I tempted the Pope, encouraged him to join the war effort.” 

“You did?” 

“Yes, you said Hell wanted more war, so that’s what I did. Isn’t that what you wanted, because you weren’t very detailed in your letter?” 

“Yeah, I thought you would talk to the Pope, I just didn’t realize you would also fill out the paperwork too.” When Aziraphale gave him a look he waved him off. “It’s fine angel I’m sure if you managed to tempt a Pope into going to war himself Hell will be very pleased.” He still felt apprehensive but Aziraphale was smart and was definitely a bastard if recent events were anything to go by. Sabotaging art so that he wouldn't lose a bet, Crowley was impressed. 

“Well. Now that the bet’s all settled, you owe me a blessing.”

“How exactly is the bet settled, because it seems to me that neither one of us has won?” 

“Precisely, neither of us can win, so therefore it's off.” Aziraphale was firm, eyes narrowed at him as if waiting for him to challenge him. He very nearly did, he wanted this win too badly. They were finally working together and tricking their respective sides. Crowley didn’t want things to go back to the way it had been before. He wanted to keep whatever this was going for as long as possible, if only to spend more time with the angel. 

“Fine. The bet’s off,” he leaned closer so no one else could hear him when he added “but not the arrangement.” 

“Obviously. You still owe me a blessing.” The mischievous look on Aziraphale’s face was enough to melt him. Here he was worrying about whether or not the angel would back out of the arrangement when it was clear he was enjoying it just as much. That was all he had wanted, the bet was meaningless in comparison. Now they would have an actual reason to see each other more often and he wouldn’t have to do as much work. It was a win win. This trip to Florence really couldn’t have worked out any better. At least that’s what he thought until he noticed the stench of sulphur, it would seem they weren’t impressed with the paperwork after all. 

Crowley got up gesturing to Aziraphale that he should stay put and let him handle it, hopefully it was just Ligur and not Hastur as well. He walked his way down the street following the stench of Hell right to Ligur and Dagon of all demons. That was not a good sign, she only ever made her way to earth when he was in serious trouble. 

“Great to see you.” He gave his best smile hoping it looked less forced then it felt.

“You bastard, I know you're trying to take credit for my work in Rome.” Ligur pointed an accusing finger at him, his eyes an even brighter orange then normal. 

“Not taking credit, you only tempted a bishop not the Pope himself.”

“It was a bishop in Rome with a close connection to the Pope. He was already talking to the Pope about going to war, so it was going to happen with or without your interference.” 

Crowley looked to Dagon for support, surely she was here for a reason. She caught his eye and rolled her eyes, though she did pull out some paperwork that had definitely seen better days. 

“It says here in your temptation file that you were able to convince the Pope to go to war himself?” Her eyes bore into him making him feel antsy. 

“Yes.” He said quietly watching the anger flare up once more on Ligur’s face though he kept his mouth shut this time. They both turned their attention to Dagon who was clearly enjoying the tension between them. 

She made sure the awkward starring continued until it was long past comfortable before saying “Good work Crowley.” Ligur’s mouth dropped. “No one has ever been able to get the Pope to go into battle himself. He will definitely be claimed by Hell.” 

“I was the one to start the temptation.” 

“Yes and Crowley here, just finished it. Keep up the good work.” With that Dagon turned on her heel dragging Ligur with her back to Hell. Crowley found himself staring at the spot they had just been, mind still trying to catch up with what had just happened. Was Aziraphale better at his job then he was? He had certainly never had them come to earth just to congratulate him before, not even after Eden. With that thought in mind he walked back to the restaurant only to see Aziraphale talking to Gabriel. Apparently today was the day for higher ups to just drop by unexpectedly.


	12. Chapter 12

Aziraphale watched Crowley leave, doing his best to remain seated in the tiny restaurant. Crowley had made it clear he could handle it on his own. Though that didn’t put him at ease when he thought about how it was probably his fault for just filling out the paperwork on his own without going over it with him first. He had never filled it out before after all, what if the language was completely different and they could tell that it wasn’t actually Crowley? He could have just accidentally given away their new arrangement and after only a couple temptations. While he hadn’t really taken to the idea initially it was just starting to grow on him. If Crowley was going to do a couple blessings for him next then he would have more time to look at his newest bibles. He was certain he had only scratched the surface of the errors made in translation. Perhaps he would even make note of just how many there were, for future reference of course. 

He was just finishing up his pasta when Gabriel stepped in the front door and made his way over to his table. Great, another visit. It really was becoming the day of performance reviews wasn’t it. Hopefully he was here with good news though Aziraphale had found that the two of them had very different ideas of what good news meant. 

“Aziraphale.” He had his fake smile firmly in place at least until he noticed the fork in his mouth. “Now we’ve spoken about this before, no gross matter. It goes straight to your hips.” Aziraphale sighed before getting up and leaving some coins for the food. Gabriel had gotten much worse lately pointing out the size of his corporation whenever possible. Every time he felt his old anxieties grow. Surely a good angel wouldn’t need to be reminded of what not to do so often. Perhaps the divide from living on earth so long was taking more of an effect then he had thought possible. 

Instead of voicing any of the more troubling thoughts he merely said “Gabriel, how are you?” 

“Now now, no need for pleasant conversation, I just dropped by to tell you that Heaven received your report and while normally we wouldn’t condone what demons do in the ways of tempting, in this case we agree with their choice to encourage the Pope to go to war. This whole ‘Renaissance’ thing is getting a little boring. So feel free to stay here until your next assignment.” 

Judging from the look Gabriel was giving him he must have a ridiculous expression on his face. To say that he had been caught off guard would be a gross understatement. At least Gabriel didn’t have a very good understanding of what certain expressions meant. 

“Am I to take your current face as a sign that you understand and will stay here?” 

Aziraphale nodded before saying “yes of course. I’ll stay here until further notice.” 

That was enough to satisfy Gabriel, who turned around heading back out the door. “Remember to proactively pursue strategic wins.” He said before waving and disappearing in a blinding light. 

Well at least now he knew just how easy it would be to get away with the arrangement. If Heaven and Hell wanted the same thing it would make the whole thing much easier. While he knew that should make him feel better about his actions he still felt uncertain. He had done something that he had thought was wrong and yet Gabriel had agreed with it. Was he wrong? All the other angels seemed so sure of what was good and what was bad. Surely war was wrong though, he of all angels had seen it’s effects on earth. It certainly wasn’t good and yet Heaven was fine with it. He would just have to put it aside, he had been on earth and therefore had a different understanding. The important part was doing what Heaven and God wanted. 

By the time he reached Leonardo’s studio he had worked out a plan on how to really show Crowley that he was going to do his part in the arrangement. Crowley did owe him ten years of blessings after all, which meant he would have more time to read through his new books. It would be his first vacation and it would be wonderful. 

Leonardo only looked mildly surprised by his sudden appearance. “I thought you two would be out longer, making up for lost time.” 

“Oh, it hasn’t been that long. I actually just wanted to talk to you first before Crowley comes back.” That seemed to get his attention as he put down the sketchbook in favour of finally looking at him. Aziraphale had noticed he had a habit of ignoring the entire world when he was working on something, almost as if he was on a completely different plane. 

“Did lunch not go well? Wait here, let me get a bottle of wine and you can tell me everything.” He said before dashing off to the backroom where Aziraphale had assumed only art was kept, apparently not. He returned with a bottle and two glasses that were quickly filled, before one was handed to him. “So what happened?” Leonardo asked now sitting closely, clearly eagerly waiting for something far more exciting then what he was about to share. 

“Well, I was hoping you would be able to draw up a picture of the two of us. Like a kind of document to show our arrangement.” He sipped the wine noticing that the bottle didn’t have a label, it was delicious. Probably a new winery that hadn’t decided on a brand name yet. 

“Yes I think I know what you're talking about” Leonardo said before winking. Aziraphale wasn’t sure why he was winking at him in such an exaggerated way. There was certainly no way for him to know what the arrangement was really about, he probably thought it was some kind of sex thing. That’s what humans usually ended up on if given the chance. 

It took less than an hour for Crowley to appear in the studio, but by that point they had finished the bottle. “Sorry you missed out, dear boy” he waved his now empty glass in Crowley’s direction. 

“Aziraphale, there you are. I wanted to talk to you” he eyed Leonardo, “in private.” 

“Fine, I’ll get the supplies.” Leonardo stomped off to his backroom huffing under his breath something about fennel. 

Crowley sat next to him, close enough that there was absolutely no way for Leonardo to hear. “Hell was very impressed with your work, you're a very skilled tempter.” 

Aziraphale slapped his arm in mock horror. “I am no such thing. I barely even needed to push him in that direction. It was distressing just how easy it was.” 

“See, my job is easy. Half the time you don’t need to do anything, they just do it themselves.” 

Leonardo reappeared with his arms full of supplies which were put on the table before an easel was pulled closer. He was doing his best to look busy but Aziraphale could tell that he was listening closely to their conversation. 

“What’s all this?” Crowley asked looking at the paper that was currently being placed on the easel. 

“I thought we could get a piece drawn up to show our mutual agreement for the arrangement. That is if you plan on taking over for the next ten years of course.” He knew he was being a little bit of a bastard but he also knew that Crowley enjoyed it. 

“A piece? Of us?” His voice was scratchy and Aziraphale thought he noticed tears in his eyes, though he couldn’t be sure behind the dark glasses.

“Yes dear. Is that okay?” 

Crowley nodded before turning away to wipe at his face, “Of course it’s okay.” 

“We’ll have to keep it locked away for safekeeping, but I do like the idea of having a contract of sorts. Something more official.” He grinned noticing the look of adoration on Crowley’s face. He was obviously thinking the same thing. 

They arranged everything so that it would suit his tastes with a scroll just so and an apple in Crowley’s hand because he said 'it will be funny' but he really meant 'that was when we first met'. 

“Make the background look like we’re outside and we’ll need it on two separate pieces so that we can each keep one.” Leonardo nodded at him and did as he asked. 

“You know I’m not doing this for free, as much as I like you both.” 

“Of course.” In the end it took a couple hours and then a lot of negotiating over price before it was all finished. But when it was he had a picture of Crowley and ten years off. All in all a very successful trip to Italy. 


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading

Fourteen years later Crowley was finally finishing off the last of the blessings he agreed to do for Aziraphale, having given him an extra four years just because he was already in the area. He was currently in France when he heard talk that Leonardo da Vinci had fallen ill. He had known that the artist had taken up residence in France still working on various projects here and there, but hadn’t heard about his failing health. As soon as he could he made his way to the Château du Clos Lucé, where Leonardo was living.

The château itself was beautiful but Crowley barely passed it a glance as he made his way inside. There were people rushing around inside but none of them noticed the darkly clad figure headed for the bedroom. 

Once inside he closed the door as quietly as possible before walking slowly towards the bed. Over the years he had witnessed the death of many humans, and it never seemed to get any easier when it was someone he felt close too. Seeing Leonardo now a frail old man in his grand bed when Crowley remembered him being so vibrant and full of ideas broke him. He found himself reaching out without thinking to brush some of his hair back from his face. The action woke him from his sleep and he opened his eyes taking in the site of Crowley and smiling. 

“I wondered if I would see you again, though you sure left it close to the end.” Crowley merely made a noise in response barely preventing himself from openly weeping. “No need to make a scene. Where is that angel of yours, the two of you seemed to finally have worked things out?” 

“London, I think.” 

“Didn’t last then.” When he remained quiet Leonardo added “I have something of yours from years ago.” He pointed to a stack of envelopes and papers all over the large ornate dresser. “It has your name on it.” 

Crowley moved away reluctantly to look through the papers, sure enough there was an envelope with his name on it. When he opened it, it was to see his own face staring back at him, the picture intended for Aziraphale. 

“I had wondered if you kept it or sold it.” 

“Surely you know me better than to think I would sell something like that when I could keep it for myself. There’s another picture under it you can have too, though seeing as things didn’t work out perhaps you won't want it.” Crowley looked up at him wondering what picture he could possibly be referring to. “Just look for yourself.” Leonardo said smiling now. 

Underneath the picture of him he pulled out one of Aziraphale, he was seated in the back garden and the sun shone through his curls making them light up. He had that familiar twinkle in his eyes and his lips were turned up in a secret smile. Crowley couldn’t help but stare in awe at it, Leonardo had captured the angel so well it was almost like he was really there with him. 

“I take it you like it.” Words were still elusive to him so he merely nodded eyes still roaming over the whole picture. “Keep it then.” 

“Thank you.” 

Crowley stayed near him until he became so consumed with worry over the choices he made in his life that he sent for a priest. Not wanting to disturb the priest or the King who was also on his way Crowley said his goodbyes and left with the two drawings. 

On May 2, 1519 Crowley knew the beloved artist was gone, and he left France without looking back. Weather Death brought him to Hell or Heaven he didn’t know and didn’t want to. The idea of a man like him being accepted by Heaven seemed impossible but the alternative was so much worse. 

******

Aziraphale was greatly enjoying his years off having spent most of them in London, which was quickly becoming one of his favourite cities. It wasn’t until he got word of what Michelangelo had completed in Rome that he decided to make a trip back earlier then he had originally planned. A whole ceiling covered in various stories from the bible. It was unheard of, and he really wanted to see it first hand. 

Travelling to Rome was still frustrating seeing as Heaven thought he was currently in France but he got there eventually, and when he did it was more than worth the trouble. The ceiling itself was completely finished when he stepped inside. Awestruck, he made his way through, eyes trained up on the frescoes as they progressed through the main events, some of which he had witnessed first hand. He ended up walking back to look at the panel depicting the fall of mankind, the familiar image of a fruit tree with a snake wrapped around it always caught his attention. In this case the snake was only half serpent the other half being that of a woman. The tree itself was a fig tree instead of an apple tree. There was even a little angel clad in pink robes pointing the way out of the garden with their sword. This angel knew better than to offer up their weapon to mankind. 

No it wasn’t what really happened though perhaps Crowley had been half serpent half human before he had seen him on the wall. He would have to ask Crowley the next time he saw him. It was a pity he wouldn’t be able to see it for himself, what with the ground being consecrated. 

Distantly he hoped Crowley was doing well, he had heard of the passing of Leonardo da Vinci and knew the demon was probably grieving. Best be off back to London for when he would undoubtedly show up with a bottle of french wine. Aziraphale did love french wine.


End file.
